


As Close As You Can Get

by Loran_Arameri



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Aggressive Steve Rogers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Judgemental Steve Rogers, M/M, Masturbation, No sex between Tony and Steve, Orgasm Denial, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers-centric, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:02:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22529035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loran_Arameri/pseuds/Loran_Arameri
Summary: Steve doesn’t know how to keep on working with Tony without the man’s personality getting in the way. He knows one of these days, he will snap. In a last attempt, he plans to use an anatomically correct Tony-Doll to teach him a lesson, but maybe there is another way to work out all that tension?
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 37
Collections: Cap Iron Man Kink Meme





	As Close As You Can Get

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Serinah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serinah/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Seri! I hope you like it.  
> After all, I would probably not be writing smut without you.

Steve snatched the package off the delivery bot. He’d been around anyway, relaxing in the rec room after breakfast, and when he heard the telltale whirring of the small guy, bringing their mail in as every morning, he went to check if there was anything for him.

And there it was, a flat parcel as broad as Steve’s palm and around eight inches long. It was light, of course it was, which made Steve hold on to it that much tighter. 

“Does that mean you’ll finally stop hovering in the rec room every morning?” 

Steve did not jump, although he hadn’t noticed Tony’s entry. He took a breath to calm his heartbeat and turned around. With the utmost control, he didn’t hide the package behind his back.

“Stark, what in hell are you talking about?”

Steve was not sure how someone in grease-stained sweatpants and a tank top could manage a look of utter exasperation as if Steve was the one being inappropriate here.

“You hung around every morning this week and disappeared as soon as the mail was delivered,” Stark said it with an air of knowing that it was Steve’s private matter and blithely ignoring that fact at the same time.

“Have you been surveilling me?” Steve put a sufficient amount of warning in the question, hoping it would be enough to get Stark to let the topic slide.

“We live together, Captain Overreaction. If I want to or not, I know when Clint lost a raid in his online RPG, when Jane and Thor had phone sex, and when you are acting weird because you ordered something naughty online. You are all just that damn obvious.” His demeanor changed from annoyed to intrigued in a split second. “It _is_ something naughty, right?”

“Stark…” The low growl was calculated. Aggression was so far the only thing that had any chance of making the man back off. And heaven knew Steve had tried about every other trick in the book. It was obvious that Tony loved to wind Steve up and see how far he could go. Steve was honest enough with himself that he could admit that this would probably end badly in the near future.

Stark scowled, and Steve already thought they were through. “Please, don’t tell me you get that excited about a new razor? No? Set of monogrammed handkerchiefs? Bookmarks?”

It was better than whatever he had been thinking of before. Steve turned around, ignoring how his neck muscles tightened up on their own accord. There was no better result to expect from any conversation with Stark. It was just wasted energy, and he was smarter for letting him blab at the wall instead of Steve.

Steve went straight to his room, where he put the package down on his desk and took a step back. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to forget about the encounter. He wouldn’t let Stark ruin this. The opposite, actually. For once, Stark would be the butt of the joke.

He looked over to the door of his closet before returning his attention to the package. With his pocket knife, the sealing tape was swiftly removed, but before he opened the flap at the end, he looked around. Biting his lip, he thought about just going forward. It was his own room, for god’s sake. The scene from before stole back into his mind. No, Stark would learn about this on Steve’s terms. He went and locked the door.

Satisfied, he returned to the desk, finally opening his package and letting the contents glide into his palm.

A grin took over his face without any restraint. The piece of cloth was in a clear, rigid plastic case, which came easily apart with the knife too. The paper insert said “Fitting every model” and “Career line”. Steve snorted. ‘Career’, sure.

It was a small black dress, as long as Steve’s hand, with white lace accents. The tiny white apron was actually not sewed on as he had expected but tied individually. There was even a white lace looking headpiece and white stockings with a garter belt, as well as a pair of flat black pumps. 

Steve laid it all out on the desk and allowed himself a small giggle.

Now, he only needed to get the stupid thing. It was stored well away in the lowest drawer at the back of his pretentious, much too large closet where he stored the thermal underwear he needed… well, never. He grabbed the box without really looking at it, kicked the drawer closed and went back to the desk. 

The box was still sealed, which didn’t hinder Steve from prying it open and tipping its contents onto the tabletop. Steve could not avoid looking at that horrible piece of plastic any longer. 

The doll was about twelve inches tall, and its smile was far too accurate for comfort. It wasn’t Stark’s full-on shit-eating grin but the press smile that too many people thought charming. One reporter had the gall to call it ‘still boyishly handsome’. They should see him when Steve was done with him.

He tried to pull off the tux the thing was wearing in one go, but of course it just wouldn’t budge. He thought about ripping it, but so far everything about the damn thing was so well produced he was afraid not the cloth but the plastic beneath might take damage, and he would need to get a new one. He really didn’t want to do that. Having one in his possession was bad enough.

So he removed the jacket, the cummerbund and was glad to see that the button line on the dress shirt was fake, and it had a thin velcro closure behind. Shoes and slacks were gone just as fast. 

There was no underwear. Of course, there wasn’t. Hadn’t Stark said that he had almost complete control over the design? Steve pressed his lips into a thin line. 

Where there was supposed to be underwear, the doll instead had a replica of what according to Stark was as close as one could get to ‘the real thing’. Some toy company had decided that making money off children wasn’t enough, and instead, they would produce what they called ‘collectibles’: Doll likelinesses of celebrities and the big draw was that instead of the typical, smooth groin usual toys had, these ones would also replicate their model’s genitalia. It was abominable.

Of course Stark loved the idea. It was still a fairly new thing, and already he had made a deal with the manufacturer to have his own line. “Not anything anyone hasn’t seen on the internet already anyhow,” he had said when Steve had asked if he had no shame. And as if that hadn’t been enough, when the first of the damn things had been produced, Stark had ordered one for everyone on the team. Steve had found it in his room that day and almost went to stuff it down Stark’s throat. Only with the last thread of reason he managed to calm himself down again. There had to be a possibility of teaching Tony a lesson once and for all somewhere in this. He had put it in the drawer, making an exercise of trying not to think of the thing and at the same time coming up with a way to use it against Stark, which then led to him browsing the internet for ideas. 

And there it was. In the pages upon pages of accessories for the growing range of celebrity dolls, Steve found a french maid uniform. It was perfect.

He tried to get rid of the thought that he had been staring at this thing’s dick, contemplating if the detail of a thick patch of curly dark hair painted around it was really necessary. If it was the actual way Stark looked down there. Steve shook his head.

He picked up the dress and put it on the doll. It required a bit of moving its limbs and pulling all the details into place but then that was already much better, wasn’t it? The black and white details looked quite good in contrast to the tanned skin. Steve added the small apron. It took several tries, and his hands seemed so giant all of a sudden, but finally, he tied a nice bow at the back. The headpiece fit perfectly too, and Steve wondered for a moment if the set wasn’t made specifically with this doll in mind after all. 

It looked quite complete already. Steve didn’t need to add the garter belt and stockings and shoes. The effect was quite nice, and it got the message across.

But… the stuff was there anyway, and what was he going to do with it? 

The garter belt was permanently fixed to the stockings, and Steve figured that was for the best after the issues he’d had with the apron. He put the doll back down on the desktop, realizing that he probably should have added these first. With a shrug, he flipped the skirt up. 

It looked indecent. Heat was running through Steve’s core at the thought of what Tony would think of this. He deserved it, alright. 

Very tenderly, Steve angled the legs into the stockings, careful to not tear or rip the fabric. It slid on smoothly, and he could easily manipulate it so they went the sleek thighs by just gently stroking upwards. When they sat, covering two-thirds of the legs, and there were no pleats left, only the olive skin shining through the white nylon, he pulled the garter over the hips and everything was in place. In the end, Steve decided to forgo the pumps. Barefoot fitted the look much better.

Steve used both hands to pull the skirt back down, so the cock, now framed in white, was no longer visible. Picking the doll up again, he weighed it in his hand. The look made the thing sufferable– because it would embarrass Tony. 

Steve stood it up against the wall, crossing his arms on the tabletop and resting his chin on it. The smile on Doll-Tony’s face looked less annoying now. The costume just framed it in the right way. Telling the viewer that it was a special favor to them. Or that he knew what he looked like, that he knew what would happen next.

Steve huffed out a breath, righting his pants. Tony wouldn’t see it coming. Steve hadn’t decided how to make the most of the doll and outfit yet. Actually, he hadn’t really spent any thought on how exactly this would lead to Tony being cowed.

It was an inevitability. The way Stark was trying to get at Steve, there wasn’t really a choice. It was better than the alternative. The tension that was building between them needed a release, and if it wasn’t this, Steve didn’t dare to think what it would be. Tony didn’t show respect for anything or anyone. He was always pushing against anything that Steve said. He wasn’t a bad team player, not at all, but he had never learned to defer to another's decisions, to not be in charge of everything. 

Steve reached out towards the doll, the other hand supporting his chin. As much as he’d hated it before, the way it looked now was more appealing. He had to ask himself if it was actually humiliation enough or just another thing Tony would roll with. Steve would need to play it carefully. Wrapping his large hands around Doll-Tony, he righted the headpiece with his thumb. 

Maybe he would say that Doll-Tony knew to do what one told him (her? No, him. Definitely him). That Stark should take an example in him. Steve moved the doll’s arms up. 

“See? He doesn’t ask ‘why’ or starts senseless discussions. He stays as I put him.”

He moved one arm so the hand was covering Tony’s mouth as if he was smiling shyly.

“And he looks good doing it.”

Steve rearranged him so he sat down on the table. His skirt bunched up a bit and Steve used his other hand to smooth it down again. He could feel the rise of the tiny plastic genital through the cloth.

“And he knows how to deal with delayed gratification.”

Making his own voice just a small bit higher, he let Doll-Tony answer, “Yes, sir.”

Okay, no. That was too weird.

He gently moved Tony’s arms down to his sides. “He is very patient and waits for me to tell him how he can be useful. He let me dress him. And I did a good job of it, didn’t I? Look at you. See how well those stockings fit.” Steve let his fingers trail up those legs again, only shortly hesitating at the seam of the skirt. His fingers slipped under it without flipping it back. “We don’t want you to look indecent to the world, do we? I would never expose you like that.”  
He thought for a moment about it. “Not as long as you’re a good boy, at least.”

His fingers felt their way along the straps to the garter belt. As broad as his fingertip was, it inevitably touched the doll’s cock. “And if you’re a good boy…”

Steve pulled one hand back to press the heel of it against his own straining erection, stifling a moan.

He froze for what felt like forever. 

He jumped up, the chair clanging on the floor. He noticed that he had grabbed the doll by the legs as it was, still folded at a ninety-degree angle and its dress in disarray. He opened the first drawer he could find and threw it in.

Without picking up the chair, he went to the door. It wouldn’t open; a moment of panic in which he thought of ripping it off the hinges passed, and he remembered the lock.

After spending the whole day at the gym, he felt like a human being again. He showered down there and went directly to the communal kitchen. The day called for an early dinner and bedtime. No more surprises or unplanned incidents.

Clint was already there, eating something that obviously contained chicken and some kind of sauce. He said that it didn’t matter what you combined as long as the nutritional values were right. Steve thought it was a lazy excuse for his weird tastes.

“Dinner already? Do you have plans tonight?” Clint waggled his eyebrows. 

Steve huffed. He really didn’t feel like ribbing back. The relaxation from the hot water was still fresh, and not even Clint would manage to ruin that. “Sure.”

He pulled out the leftovers from yesterday’s lunch and placed them in the microwave. Not long to wait, and he would be back behind a closed door in no time.

Just as the oven pinged, Tony walked around the corner and into the open space behind the counter.

“We’re having an early dinner?”

“ _We’re_ not having anything.” Steve made an effort to not clench his teeth. He could eat in his room.

“You’re not sharing? Is that about food insecurity in the 20s or…?”

“Shut up, Stark.” Steve hit the counter making something splinter. He couldn’t see what, only the short moment of uncertainty on Tony’s face.

But he still wouldn’t shut up. “If you had a bad day–”

“It’s none of your business what is up with my day.”

Clint had stopped eating and was eyeing them both alternately. Tony was silent now but still looked at Steve as if waiting for something. A part of Steve felt seconds away from ripping. He shouldered his way through Stark, not looking back to see if he had done any damage, and was out of there.

He smashed his room’s door harder than he had planned, but luckily, it didn’t break. He needed it more than any other day right now. If only as a reminder, that he had to actively choose to go back out there and do something about Stark. To him.

Steve refused to pace while waiting for the need to grab and tear to go down. He stood still in the middle of his room. He could hear his own labored breathing. It was ridiculous. 

He could either go out there and do… something. Or– Or–

He opened the drawer on his desk. There were pens and papers and a hole-punch and god knows what else. He dug it all out. He was sure he had put it there. He pulled out the next one, shoveled everything onto the table but still nothing. The third one he drew out completely and up-ended it on the floor next to the chair that still lay as he had left it hours ago. Nothing.

Where had it gone? It couldn’t be in the closet; he would remember having gone in there. He opened the drawer on his bedside table. There it was. He grabbed it and sat down heavily on the duvet.

“Why can’t you just shut up for once?” It sounded less angry than Steve had expected. “Why do you always need to drive me up the wall? Is that stupid giant genius brain of yours not satisfied if it doesn’t know? Doesn’t know how far you can go?”

Steve tried to bend the doll’s arms, but there was no way to make it shrug. The face wouldn’t have fit the expression anyway. 

“Not so big on arguing now, huh? Maybe the dress has taught you a lesson. Do you want to apologize? Make it up to me?” There was no answer. Steve didn’t expect one. “Maybe I’m done spending so much time and energy on you.”

He was ready to throw the doll down but rethought in the last second. Instead, he put it down face-first onto the pillow. 

“Be nice and quiet, and maybe I’ll look at you again.”

Steve went to the bathroom to wash his face. He knew that he had only just showered, but it felt sticky and filthy, and he just wanted to leave all that behind. He tugged off his shirt, pants, and socks and threw them in the hamper. He scrubbed his teeth and used mouthwash as one is supposed to, and then there was nothing more he could peel back, and he went back out.

Pulling back the duvet, he did his best to ignore the small black form standing out starkly against the white of the second pillow. He laid down on his back off-center on the oversized bed and put his head to the side, looking at the doll. It couldn’t see him with its face smushed into the pillow. Not that it would be able to see at all.

He pulled the covers up and rolled to his left to face it head-on. After another moment of hesitation, he reached out his right. His hand hovered over the small form and there was the thought of just pushing down pressing it further into the pillow with ever more force. Instead, he put his finger down at the base of its neck, feeling the white lace collar ruffle. 

“Don’t think I will be fooled by you staying still for five minutes because I told you so. If I would roll you over, I know that stupid smile would be still on your face.” He gave the head the smallest shove. 

“Hands behind your back.” Leaning up, he maneuvered the doll’s arms back, arranging them in the least awkward manner possible, which still looked somewhat unnatural. Or just uncomfortable. He licked at his lips. “Spread your legs.” The joints allowed for a surprisingly wide split.

“You were apparently made to be a whore.” He thought for a moment about that. “Designed yourself that way. You want this?” He flicked his index finger against the doll’s ass, producing a dull sound.

Putting his head in his left hand, he let his index and middle fingers wander over the dress, pressing the plastic arms together after trailing over them, rubbing at the spot on the ass he had hit before, then going back up putting index finger and thumb on each side of the doll’s neck. He let the fingertip roll along that indescribably fragile-looking part of Doll-Tony’s body.

“You’re smart enough to know your actions do have consequences. Even if you are Tony Stark.”

The doll was comfortingly silent.

“But you aren’t Tony Stark, are you? Not here, not now. You’re my doll. And that means I can do what I want to you.” Steve tightened his hold until he could feel the plastic give a little and instantly let it go again. “And I can take care of you as I want.” He lifted his fingers to rub around the chop of dark hair but the feel was all wrong. Instead, he trailed his finger over the pleats of the dress again. “Because that whole ‘Playboy, Genius, Billionaire’ bit? It’s not good for you either.”

Steve rubbed a thumb over the nylon clad calve. “Sometimes you get so much more with just being able to accept things.” 

He reached the hemline of the dress and his thoughts flashed back to this morning and the day that had followed. “For all your nonchalance about the leaked nudes and sex-videos and paid interviews with one-nightstands, you can’t ask for this directly. Can you? You only can tease and make bawdy innuendos and be as offensive as possible.” He only brushed up against the lace and then trailed his fingers down the stockings again. “But one touch and you wilt like a flower.” When he reached the foot, he let a nail flick over the sole before changing sides. “You’re so hungry for it.” The feeling of nylon on those smooth thighs surprised Steve for the second time today. Back at the hem again, he stopped. There was no breathing, no moans and no sighs, of course. But Steve knew that all that Tony wanted was for him to move his fingers under that skirt like he had done earlier that day. 

“I would ask you to beg, but I know you won’t.” Steve pulled his hand away and rolled onto his front and forbade his own moan at his semi pressing into the mattress. He put his head down on his pillow and turned Tony’s tiny head to look at him. The smile was still there.

Seconds passed while they looked at each other. Steve considered that smile and decided it was genuine. “You do look beautiful that way. No! You still can’t move your hands. Let me look at you.”

Grabbing at the far end of the pillow, he yanked it closer. So fast that Doll-Tony tumbled off.

“Shit, sorry.” He picked him off the mattress, and righting his head again, laid him out on his back. His legs were still indecently spread. Steve corrected it to just a small opening, inviting but not lewd; the hands went down to his sides. The placing of the limbs alone made Steve’s cock pulse where it was confined under his body. He took a deep breath removed his hands from the doll in favor of letting his eyes do the touching for a while.

When enough anticipation had built up, he put his hand back at those legs and determinedly caressed them, slowly making his way upwards. The feeling and tension made him want to rut into the mattress. He wondered what it would be doing to Tony. This time he didn’t stop when he reached the skirt. He made sure his fingers were following the outer side of Doll-Tony’s thighs so there was no chance of touching his cock yet. He could swear there was an almost tremble of excitement.

“I’m going to lift your skirt up again now, and you will be pleasant and patient.” He did exactly that. Doll-Tony still smiled that enamored smile.

This time Steve looked his fill of the white stripes bordering painted-on curly black hair and the tiny plastic penis. 

“Yes, you heard right, tiny. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You don’t have to be big.” He put the pad of his index finger down on Tony’s hip. With his middle-finger, he made him buck-up at the same time. “Uh-uh. Hold still.”

Steve was fascinated by how large even his fingertip was in comparison. 

“I like that it is tiny. It’s only there for my amusement.” With that, he let the pad of his thumb brush over it. He pressed his own hip into the mattress. “See? It’s perfect for that. You are just here for me. To play with. To make use of. Just taking everything.” 

The way Tony kept looking at him had Steve’s blood rush in his ears. The smile was open, adoring, telling him to do whatever as long as he didn’t take his attention away from Tony. Steve laid his fingers on the tiny cock, teasing it with the barest touch possible.

“You are not going to move. Keep still for me and I might just let you come.” There was no movement, and Steve bit his lip to not moan out loud. Tony had still a little way to go before Steve would allow him to see how much he managed to arouse Steve. He pressed his finger down and rubbed over the raised plastic. The feel wasn’t the same, of course, but it was hard which was enough right now. 

“You can beg me to let you orgasm any time you want.” Steve’s erection was by now hurting from being confined between his body and the bed. He wondered if it had been long enough, but if Tony needed a reminder they could always do this again. He let go of Tony’s cock. “Whining won’t bring it back faster.” Although it might make Steve even harder.

He got rid of his underwear quickly and efficiently, and deciding how to handle the doll and his own cock, kneeled down in front of the pillow holding Tony. 

“Oh, look. Take your fill.” If Steve’s finger had looked large juxtaposed to the doll, his dick was enormous. He gave it a firm stroke and allowed his breathing to become heavy. There was no chance of Tony bratting off so close to the finish line. “Yes, that is your doing.” Steve again placed a finger between the garter strips, this time his thumb.

“I love how you need all your restraint to keep from writhing.” He mostly kept changing the pressure on Tony’s cock with his left while stroking himself with his right. “You don’t even know if it will bring you release in the end and you still do it. Because that’s its own reward, right? Seeing how you give me pleasure instead of chasing your own?” This was going too fast but Steve didn’t see how he could slow down anymore. He got Tony exactly where he wanted him, how he wanted him. He sped up his right.

“I could make you hard for me whenever I wanted and never let you come and you would love it.” Steve’s speech was getting less pronounced; it was just so much, so good. “Keeping you on edge indefinitely. Dress you up whenever no one is around.” He could see it, all of it while his focus right here was pinpointed on Tony before him. “You would be mine, and you would be good for me.” The rushing in his ears became louder, and there was a snap he couldn’t attribute but Tony was still not moving. “You would never touch yourself.” For a moment he wondered if there were cockcages for these dolls too. It didn’t matter. Tony wouldn't touch himself without permission. Steve growled out a moan. Maybe he could rig something up or just paint it on. Tony would be locked forever. 

“Oh god.” Everything was a rush, and without thinking, Steve picked Tony up and pulled the dress over his head. He could feel something ripping, but the sound didn’t carry over the noise in his ears. He threw the doll back on the pillow, and it landed ass up. Steve managed to wrap the dress haphazardly around his cock and give it three more strokes before coming. He painted white lines over Tony’s ass, back, and head which stood out as beautifully as the garter did. Panting and slowly sinking back down on his hackles, Steve was unable to take his eyes off the image, but eventually, he carefully unwrapped his dick from the dress. He probably would need to get a new one. Maybe some other outfits, too.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He made to pick up Tony when he heard a noise and turned his head.

Tony, much larger than just a moment ago, was standing in the door his eyes wide. Steve stared back for a moment, unable to reconcile what was happening. Tony turned his head and Steve followed his gaze to the chaos of up-turned drawers and the overturned chair. When their eyes met again, Tony closed his mouth, licked his lips, and stepped forward, closing the door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider the end a feature and not a bug. Anything you want can happen afterward :D (This is to say that there won't be a follow-up.)


End file.
